Dying a child
by Maze-of-Love
Summary: Kanda hides a secret, Allen knows it and he wants to find out about it.


My first attempt in writing Allen/Kanda! And I've always thought I'd spend my life writing LaviYu porn, since it's my OTP... I guess one needs to broaden their horizons? Anyway, this little fic here is flooded with angsty moments, I'm being nice and warning you in advance. Because, yes, I'm a horrible person and I love torturing my muses... I bet Kanda wishes he wasn't my favorite char, but it's his own fault for being so interesting. x3

Drop me a review, yesh? I'd like to hear your opinions and even suggestions for upcoming chapters. :3

* * *

Silver colored eyes were locked on the other body below him, watching as it squirmed, not missing a single movement. They were feeding on those erotic motions, indulging on them as if they were as vital as the air those lungs were breathing. Comparing Kanda to a drug could be awkward to someone else, but it made perfect sense for Allen: the older male was as addicting and dangerous as the narcotic substances, capable of granting either the wildest dreams or the most painful death. It all depended on the way he was handled.

Fortunately for the cursed exorcist, he had long ago discovered the secret to tame the ruthless Japanese. It was as simple as being worse than him. Kanda would never acknowledge someone weaker, Allen came to know with time, so that left him with no other option but to push aside his usual kindness and polite manners, as the way of admitting his feelings and stealing from the other a similar confession.

He was glad he was bold and skilled enough to achieve such a thing, to be the only one who was able to connect to the long-lost heart of the Asian boy, but a bright light of happiness always comes tied with a dark shadow of grief. Kanda was exactly like that and he could be both things at the same time, if that was even humanly possible. It didn't take him much to go from anger to tranquility, from a serious debate to a random comment, from an honest and oh-so-brief smile to a deep scowl.

Allen first thought it was something similar to bi-polarity. It wouldn't be a surprise, seeing as exorcists didn't exactly live a happy life. Sure, they were a family, they mutually built their strength over their companions, but dealing with death, sorrow and suffering almost daily didn't take long to shatter a mind. But then he realized it couldn't be just that.

It wouldn't explain why Kanda could survive fatal wounds, how he wasn't affected by the akuma's virus or why he rushed to his room every time he was back from a mission and locked himself there for hours, even days. It had been more than a year since Allen first arrived at the Order and almost seven months since he and the other exorcist became more than lovers and less than friends -in that order- and he still didn't know about so many things, he was still longing for so many answers.

An almost desperate moan cut the silence in that room and broke the British young man's chain of thoughts, leaving him blinking in confusion for a second. He'd almost forgotten what he was doing. He'd almost forgotten how Kanda was laying on his lap and how he had a couple of his fingers comfortably resting inside the older's forbidden entrance. Apparently he had been absently moving them as his mind spinned helplessly in circles, and the pleasured noise that left his ears twitching in delight was caused by an accidental bump against the samurai's sweet spot.

"Have I ever told you that you're hot?" He whispered in a low tone, barely audible. Kanda preferred it like that. He had an incredibly accurate sense of hearing, so loud conversations displeased him enormously. Especially in bed. That was another fact that had caught Allen unprepared at the beginning, but that he had gotten used to by now. The same had happened when he found out about the Japanese's odd obsession with pain. More than not minding it, he enjoyed it.

"Have I ever told you you talk too fucking much...?" This one fact had not been as surprising, the way Kanda always wanted everything according to his desires. The boy swallowed and shoved his head back roughly when Allen teased his prostate again, small beads of sweat rolling down his face and lightly glowing under the moonlight coming in from the window.

Allen's left hand closed around his erection and started pumping, as the fingers of the right one kept dancing inside him, and Kanda bit down hard on the back of his own hand, leaving behind a visible mark that would become a bruise later. It happened every time they had sex, he wouldn't allow it to be otherwise. He wouldn't allow himself to enjoy such pleasure without enduring pain at the same time. Masochism, oddness, insanity, whatever Allen wanted to call it. He deserved that and only he himself knew why.

The younger didn't fail to notice that, and still he wouldn't be able to change his lover's mind. He'd tried before, at least once for every time they had slept together, and it always ended as a complete failure. It had started after they returned from the Noah's Ark, those sudden urges of Kanda to inflict himself, and he had never earned a plausible explanation. The marks of that night would only be a few more to add to the collection of bruises and shallow cuts that already adorned the samurai's slim body.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" The feeling of bandages brushing against his legs as the Asian male moved was the reason for Allen's question and concern. Kanda had returned from a complex mission the day before and they were already making out, not even after twenty-four hours had passed, so he had to worry - especially because his mate didn't.

The raven-haired teen gave him a somewhat disgusted "Che" as a reply, as if having someone worrying about him was a serious offense. Allen knew how fast he could heal, even if the regenerative rate had been dropping almost drastically in the last couple of months - it was all the damned flower's fault.

The white-haired male couldn't help it, not when the person he loved had been found almost dead after being ambushed by five level three metallic demons. He had won the fight nonetheless, he had regained consciousness by the time the finders brought him back to Headquarters, the most severe wounds were already sealing, but still. Still, Allen didn't know what would be left for him if he was to lose that reckless idiot who loathed heroes with all his might but was definitely one of them.

A crystal tear slid down his cheek as his Asian mate's body flinched in pleasure and a sudden outburst of warm liquid soaked his hand. Unconsciously, he brought the cursed limb up and licked it clean, smiling at the taste. Salty, bitter, making him crave for more. Just like Kanda.

The samurai moved when his lungs were functional again and shifted to sit on the bed, but the breathing organs rebelled and he started coughing. Not that hard, without stopping for some seconds, not giving him a chance to breathe. When the spasm stopped he had a thin strand of crimson blood drizzling down his chin, staining his pale skin on its wake.

"You're doing it again..." Allen grasped his face lightly and tilted it so that the light of the full moon revealed the mark of the abuse the older's throat had just suffered. "Lenalee told me you started coughing this morning during breakfast, too."

"You would cough if a fucking son of a bitch had stabbed your chest, too." Kanda shrugged and retorted casually, even knowing that wasn't the truth. The gash one of the akuma had made on his torso had nothing to do with the way he had almost choked a few seconds ago. He knew what was happening and he'd make sure Allen didn't.

"Will you ever stop being that stubborn jerk you are and tell me what is wrong?" A soft, half-mad sigh escaped past Allen's lips. Kanda surely hadn't been made to be a liar, his night-sky colored eyes got covered by a shadow of repulse every time he violated his samurai pride by spitting out lies.

"No." The answer was simple and clean and wouldn't admit contradictions, for the long-haired male leaned closer right after speaking and captured Allen's lips in a deep kiss. The boy shuddered, tasting Kanda's blood along with the kiss, and clawed at the white bandages wrapped around his chest, the ones hiding the flesh wound and the dark strands of the tattoo that were threatening to grow beyond the exorcist's shoulder and neck.

He'd make sure to find out what his Japanese boyfriend was hiding, he'd make sure of that. Though, for the moment, that didn't matter. Not when that piece of temptation shaped like a human had just crawled to his lap and was rubbing against him in the way Allen knew as 'Fuck me until I'm sore and bleeding'. Moral considerations and concerned theories could go to sleep until the next morning. That night, Allen was dancing with the devil.

* * *

Rays of sun light came in from the window, gently touching the face of the sleeping boy. He frowned in his slumber, not wanting to be taken away from the illusion his brain was experiencing, and hid under the covers. Anyone who was to watch that scene would blatantly call him childish, but at the moment Allen could care less. Even unconsciously, he knew there was nothing childish about that particular dream.

Was that a garden? A forest? Something akin to both? Silverish hues scouted the area as Allen made his way through the maze of impossibly high trees and fancy bushes, ones that had nothing to envy from those extinct millions of years ago, when Earth had yet not been corrupted by the Human race. Why was he in such place? The reason would have to be related to the wide space he had just reached, because he felt as if an invisible force had guided his steps there.

The sound of small branches and sticks being cracked under his feet echoed throughout that ghostly atmosphere but the British boy didn't stop, he barely even noticed. All of his attention had been swept away and focused on the glistening something laying in the middle of that area, over what seemed to be some dark rocks, carefully piled up. The object, Allen noticed as he got closer, was a coffin.

Not a common one, thought, that one was certainly one of the most beautiful things the young male had ever seen in his entire life. The base was made of stone, the same black stone present on the rocks below, except it was polished and adorned with Sanskrit symbols carved there, that Allen couldn't understand. The upper portion was made of fine glass, shining almost like crystal, and black rose vines were wrapped around it, coming from beneath the forest ground.

Through the glass surface he could discern a person inside. A pale, slender body, almost blending with the long white tunic it was enveloped with, rested there, lifeless. The hands rested over their belly, strands of ebony hair were spilled over the shoulders like a cascade. Allen let his gaze drift up and his eyes grew wide when he stared at that person's face, a desperate scream erupting from deep within him.

Then it was all white. And, then, it was all dark. The exorcist gasped and trashed, trying to understand where the hell he was now, and let out a startled shriek when the floor disappeared from below him and he fell. Rather, what he thought that was the floor, because his face had just hit the real thing. Grumbling, he kicked the covers away and realized he had been sleeping and had just slipped off his bed.

That dream… he had just come out of it but it had started to fade already, all that was left in Allen's memory was a blur. About a forest and something there… And the odd sensation that he had dreamed about something familiar. Shrugging it off, he rose to his feet and stretched, smiling at the warm light coming from the outside. It'd be a good day, or so he thought.

The parasitic-type exorcist's good mood was shattered to pieces when he turned away and glanced down at his bed, his eyes becoming as wide as they had been seconds ago in the dream. He knew why there were two pillows over the mattress, he recalled having put the extra one there last night for Kanda. What was bewildering him was the small blemish of blood staining one of the cushions, vivid and bright, almost as if it was sarcastically staring back at Allen.

The boy snatched it and stared at it blankly for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. It wasn't unusual for him and Kanda to accidentally -or not- make each other bleed during sex, but… If that was a mark left there last night, why was the blood still rather fresh? It had begun to dry already but it hadn't been there for more than ten or so minutes, Allen was sure of it.

The answer was quite obvious and he knew it, but he didn't want to admit. He didn't want to admit how that blood had probably leaked from his lover's body due to another coughing spasm, just like the one he had had the night before and in front of Lenalee. Kanda was supposed to be healed by now, it never took him more than a couple of days, so what did that mean?

Determined to scavenge for the answers, Allen quickly changed clothes and left his room, heading to the cafeteria. The Japanese exorcist should be having his breakfast there so he'd find him and make sure to rip an explanation out of him, whether he wanted to cooperate or not. His intention was good but he bumped on the first problem when he entered the dining hall and noticed how empty it was. Was it so late in the morning that everyone, including Kanda, had already had their first meal and left?

"Jerry-san! Have you seen Kanda?" The Indian chef squealed in joy at Allen's voice and immediately turned away and ran to the counter to greet him. The other employees from the kitchen never mentioned it, but all of them could swear there were always light sparkles emanating from Jerry's body whenever he talked to the cursed young man.

"No dear, and I was wondering what the two of you were up to, because none have come here so far! You shouldn't skip your meals Allen-kun, you're growing up!"

"So that means no one has seen him today, yet…" The frown that overcame Allen's features as he said that made Jerry have to force himself to breathe deeply and recall the exorcist wasn't a stuffed animal meant to be squeezed at will "Don't be sad lovely! Why don't you go check his room? Maybe he overslept, it happens."

Whether it was Jerry's sixth sense working or mere coincidence on the choice of his words was unknown, but the Asian long-haired male was, indeed, in his bedroom. He went there after waking up, after coughing enough to make his lungs feel like burning in Hell. No one saw him while he staggered from Allen's chamber to his own, otherwise the exorcists residing on that floor would have been woken up with startled screams about how a ghost had invaded Home.

Kanda entered his room and locked the door behind him, unconsciously. It wasn't unusual anymore, the way his body operated on its own and his brain was unable to process the actions and recall them later. It was as if, during those moments, a different soul possessed him and pushed his own away from reality. It had become more frequent as he spent portions of his life, which meant, as he relied on his top Illusions.

The boy walked a few steps and stopped in front of his desk, staring down at the small hourglass. The flower inside was as vivid as always, emanating the same eerie glow that caused a fire to lit up on Kanda's blue orbs. He softly touched the transparent surface and counted: three petals, out of the remaining seven, were shining brighter than the others. He knew by now what that meant. Soon they would be gone.

During the last mission he had been forced to recite the third Illusion and sublimate a fraction of his lifespan in exchange for power, and now he could confirm his suspects that it had cost him more than a petal this time. Before long the gleaming three would wither and fall, causing the dark shadow covering the upper left part of his body to grow. Along with it, it would be pain, that intense suffering and burning that he felt before, whenever something similar happened. He'd be left with only four petals.

Did he mind? No. Kanda even longed for pain at times, it wouldn't be such a thing bringing down the proud samurai. Those four would be enough for him to achieve his goal, he would find that person no matter how many times he had to die till then. That woman who started it all…

The Asian exorcist kept staring at the enchanted hourglass as time flew by, not aware of the seconds gradually changing into minutes. The object imprisoned him in its trance and he only came back this senses when a sudden seizure stole away the air in his lungs and a sharp pain started spreading all over his body. He gasped, almost choking on the blood that abruptly flooded his mouth, and spat some of the red fluid, as he stepped back rubbing his arms.

His body felt cold, frozen almost, he could barely sense his fingertips brushing against the dark fabric of his nightshirt. The Japanese teen bent down, twisting his slender body in an attempt to lessen the ache, but, as he expected, it didn't do any good. Narrowing his eyes and forcing his vision to clear, he glanced at the lotus just in time to see as one of the three glowing petals had just lost his shine and was set free from the main flower, going to rest on the glass floor beside the other six fallen ones.

Allen heard a dull sound but didn't relate it to anything else but the knock he had just given to the door of Kanda's room. No response, he repeated. Still no response, so he tried to twist the knob and go inside without an invitation. A scowl came to his face when he realized the wood panel was locked from the inside. "Kanda?"

What was that feeling? An invisible hand tightened around the British teen's throat and his own limb moved away from the doorknob, trembling after the imaginary jolt. Why was he afraid of Kanda's room? Was it because he knew the older boy was inside -since the room was never locked otherwise- and he feared in anticipation the scene he'd witness there? Premonitions weren't one of Allen's fixations but when it came to Kanda, he'd bend any rule. The samurai was supernatural on his own, he didn't abide by logical laws.

A loud crashing noise broke the silence of that section of Headquarters, as the white-haired male obliterated the door using his massive sword. Shoving aside every bit of good manners he had, he rushed inside the room and froze in place as his eyes caught a glimpse of the lifeless person in front of him. His boyfriend laid on the cold stone floor, not moving, surrounded by a small pool of blood that ran down both from his lips and his legs, soaking the inner portion of those pallid thighs.


End file.
